Cross-Check
by Trn736
Summary: A 'friendly' game of ice hockey on a bitter day at Stark's Pond quickly goes awry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **All places and characters referenced to the television show _**South Park**_ are property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p>"It's gonna be cold one out there today, Tom," a temperature radar map appeared on the screen, "-15°F is our expected high today with wind chills bringing the temperature down to a bitter -30°F… South Park and much of the surrounding area is under a NOAA-issued wind chill warning until around noon tomorrow – at this point. The weather moving in with this cold front is going to be quite a shock, considering temps have been in the mid 40s for the past couple days. Temperatures this low can be very dangerous very quickly without the proper protection… We recommend people stay inside and warm but if you have to go outside, remember to bundle up!"<p>

_Knock, Knock, Knock._

"Butters!" Mr. Stotch called to his son, "Get the door, please."

"Alright, dad!" Butters hurried out of his room and past his parents' – the morning news was still on – downstairs to the door.

"Hey, Butters!" A small group of kids carrying ice skates and hockey sticks greeted him as he opened the door: Stan, Kyle, and Kenny.

"H-hey, fellas!" He responded cheerfully.

"You want to come play ice hockey with us?" Stan asked.

"You – you want me to p-play with you guys?" Butters stammered, almost confused.

"Yeah, dude. We need a fourth so we can play 2 v 2," Kyle held out a spare pair of ice skates and a hockey stick.

"What about E-Eric? Isn't he usually your fourth?"

"He just thinks he's our fourth. Most of the time it's just that we can't get him to stop following us," Kyle laughed.

"Yeah! And his fat ass would probably break through the ice even though it's like 5 feet thick – I bet!" Kenny laughed even harder.

"We'd rather play with you," Stan smiled.

"I don't know, guys…" Butters fidgeted his hands.

"It's okay if you don't know how to skate or something, Butters. We won't make fun of you – too much!" Kenny said as the boys snickered.

"I can skate!" Butters immediately defended himself, "I just need to ask my dad… Come inside and stay warm, I'll go ask." He yielded the door and made his way back upstairs.

The three boys closed the door behind themselves and took a seat on the couch.

"Hey, dad…?"

"Yes, Butters?"

"That was some of my friends at the door and t-they were wondering if I could play with them for a while, please…?

Mr. Stotch looked at his wife, she nodded.

"Alright, son. I guess it is pretty early… You can always do your chores when you get back. Just don't stay out too long."

"Alright! Thanks, mom! Thanks, dad! I'll be back soon," Butters ran back downstairs. "I can play!" He smiled as he approached.

"Alright! – Cool! – Nice!" The three responded in unison.

"Let's go then," Stan led the group to the door.

It was a fairly short walk to Stark's Pond.

"Alright," Kyle began as he dropped his skates and stick near the pile of everyone else's, "How are we going to do this?"

"Well… We should probably pick teams first," Stan suggested, "Kyle and I can be a team and you and Butters can be a team," he looked a Kenny.

"Alright – Okay," they spoke together.

"We can set up two makeshift goals with like some rocks or sticks or something around here," he continued, "And we could do something like one on the field with one person being goalkeeper for each team and we can switch every point or something? First to 10 points wins?"

"Sounds good," Kyle agreed, "I'll be goalie first."

"Me too," Kenny said.

"Looks like it'll be me and Butters playing against each other first, then. We can switch after the first goal and rotate around or something so we can all play goalie and against each other sometime."

Everyone nodded.

"Let's find some stuff to make a goal first."

The group walked around the lake for a few minutes picking up a couple of large rocks and a few thicker branches on the ground and proceeded to set up a sort of makeshift box goal on either end of the pond.

"Looks good!" Butters said as he finished lacing his stakes and grabbed a stick.

"Are we ready, then?" Stan asked as he stood up as well.

"Yep," Kenny started moving toward his goal.

"Yeah," Kyle moved to his.

"Kay. Let's go, Butters," Stan picked up the group's lone hockey puck and the two moved to the center of the pond.

"Ready?" Stan dropped the puck on the ice.

"Yeah!" Butters positioned himself.

"On three… One… Two… Three!"

After a short fight for the puck, Butters emerged in control and quickly skated toward Kyle and his goal. Stan tried hard to regain control but Butters had the competitive advantage from stealing the puck initially. He positioned himself to Kyle's right and took a shot, scoring less than a minute into the game.

"Alright, Butters!" Kenny cheered.

Stan and Kyle looked at each other, dumbfounded.

"Zero – One… Okay… I guess it Kenny and Kyle's turn now…," Stan and Butters traded sticks with their goal keepers.

This rotation continued every time someone scored for about the next hour or so.

"Eight to Nine… Your lead…," Stan gritted his teeth as he faced off against Butters, obviously frustrated at possibility of losing to him.

"Ready?"

"Yep," Butters steeled himself to score the final point.

"One… Two… Three!"

This possession started off very similarly to the first. Butters reached in and took initial control of the puck and closed in on the goal. Kyle readied himself to block the shot. As Stan got close to Butters, he tried something different this time… Instead of attempting to steal the puck, he raised his stick with both hands and shoved Butters to the side. He lost his balance and hit the ground, hard. Stan took control of the puck and quickly scored through a stunned Kenny.

"Butters!" Kenny rushed over to the boy, still on the ground.

"What the heck was that, Stan?!" Kyle almost sounded pissed as he skated over to the boy.

"I – I…," it was almost like he had just realized what he had done. Stan moved to check on the boy as well.

"Are you okay?" Kenny asked he knelt beside him.

Butters sniffled as he cradled his right arm.

"Is it broken? Can you move it?" Kyle prompted.

Butters extended, flexed, pronated, and supinated his arm.

"It doesn't look broken… Let me see it?" Kyle extended his arm and Butters gave him his.

He gently rolled up the boy's sleeve. A large spot on his arm was black and blue.

"Butters…," Stan knelt beside him and the other boys, "I'm sorry. I got carried away… I couldn't stand losing to you and Kenny, I was being a sore sport… Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I think so…," Butters wiped his eyes.

Stan hugged the boy and put an arm around his shoulder.

"You and Kenny are just better at hockey than Kyle and I am," he chuckled.

"Well… The game is actually tied now… Nine – nine," Kenny commented.

"Game point!" Butters positioned himself to stand up.

"You should really go home and put some ice on that arm, Butters. And we've been out here in this freezing cold for quite a while – we're going to get frostbite pretty soon," Kyle stood up and helped Butters to his feet.

"Since when are you a doctor, Kyle?" Stan laughed.

"Contrary to popular belief some of us _do_ actually pay attention in health class, Stan," Kyle teased.

"I'll be fine for one more point," Butters positioned himself in the middle of the pond. "I want a rematch, Stan!"

"One more?" Stan asked the two other boys.

"One more." Both Kyle and Kenny replied.

"Alright," Stan moved into position, "I won't play dirty this time… You ready?"

"Ready!" Butters almost yelled.

"One… Two… Game point!"

After an initial back-and-forth for control of the puck, Butters emerged victorious. He skated as fast as he could toward his opponent's goal. As he neared he lined up a shot and, with all his might, he pulled the stick over his shoulder and swung as hard as he could, following through with swing.

The puck sailed right past Kyle, scoring the game-winning point.

"Alright!" Butters cheered, oblivious to what had just happened.

"Stan!" Kyle yelled as he dropped his stick and rushed to where the boys were.

Butters was confused until he looked down at his stick, the edge of the blade was covered in blood. Stan lie motionless near his feet. Blood oozed out of a sickening gash on his forehead and onto the ice.

"Oh my gosh!" Butters dropped his stick, horrified.

"Stan! Stan!" Kyle carefully turned the injured boy onto his back.

"What happened?!" Kenny quickly approached, "Oh my god!" He gasped.

"Stan, can you hear me?" Kyle nearly begged for a response.

"He's unconscious," Kenny gently shook the boy as Butters stood by, paralyzed in fear of what he had done.

"We need to get him to the hos -," Kyle was interrupted by a loud popping noise.

"What the hell was that?!" Kenny looked around.

Kyle looked down at the piece of the lake all four boys were on as he came to a horrifying realization. Small cracks were rapidly spidering through the ice. "The ice is breaking!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Get off the ice!" Kenny yelled, scrambling toward the shore.

Butters nearly fell down in his attempt to escape.

Kyle grabbed onto Stan in attempt to drag him to safety.

"Come on, Kyle!" Kenny grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away from the injured boy and immediate danger.

"We need to help Stan!" Kyle resisted.

Kyle tripped over Kenny's feet in an attempt to break free near the shore. The two fell into the nearby snow just as a large chunk of ice where the boys had been standing fully cracked and dunked into the water.

"Stan!" Kyle pushed Kenny away and ran back onto the unstable ice, sliding the last couple of meters on his stomach toward the freezing water. He frantically managed to grasp the arm of the still-unconscious, face-down boy just before he fully sank.

"Kyle, no!" Kenny yelled after his friend. He slid after him just managing to grab Kyle's ankle before he shot off into the lake water next to Stan.

"I got him!" Kyle exasperated. "Quick! Help me pull him up, Kenny!"

Kenny began tugging on Kyle's leg to bring both boys back.

He suddenly stopped when there was another ominous popping noise.

"Oh, no...," Kenny said aloud. "Butters!" He screamed desperately, "Help us! Pull us back fast! The rest of the ice is breaking!"

Kenny frantically pulled on Kyle but the combined weight between him and Stan was too much to pull.

"Butters!" Kenny's second cry for help snapped Butters out of his trance. He quickly slid onto the lake as well. He grabbed onto Kenny's leg and began to pull with all of his might, as did the other two. Kyle managed to get Stan mostly out of the water as the human chain quickly began to move across the failing ice. Butters hit the shore first and quickly moved to help Kenny the last few meters. Both Butters and Kenny helped Kyle and Stan off the lake just before a huge chunk broke off and splashed into the water.

All three boys collapsed on the snowy shore winded, hearts beating a million miles an hour.

As soon as Kyle regained his breath he moved to Stan's side and turned him onto his back. The boy was soaking wet. He had lost his hat in the lake, dilute blood dribbled down the side of his head from the bloody gash now partially covered by his wet, messy black hair. His skin was pale and his lips were tinted blue. He was not breathing.


	3. Chapter 3

"He's not breathing...," Kyle said sharply as he turned to Kenny, distraught and on the verge of tears.

Kenny looked at Stan and then back up at Kyle helplessly.

"What do we do?!" Kyle exasperated.

"Uh...," Kenny paused, "Health class!" He had a revelation, "You mentioned health class earlier! We need to give him CPR! Fast!"

"I - I don't remember how...," Kyle clenched his fists, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Just push on his chest over and over for like a minute and then you need to breathe into his mouth a few times and do it over and over and over. He can't breathe right now so we have to do it for him...," he trailed off, "I run the fastest, I'll go get help," he leapt up and took off in a dead sprint.

Kyle quickly positioned himself on his knees next to Stan and immediately began rhythmically pushing his intertwined hands into Stan's chest every few seconds. He counted about 30 times and quickly moved his head to Stan's, figuring that was about a minute. He hesitated for a moment at the thought of putting his lips against his super best friend's but quickly decided that, even though it was gross, he had to do it. He tilted his best friend's head back and gave him two deep breaths.

He repeated this cycle over and over but with each passing second, the situation became more grim.

"Come on, Stan...," Kyle huffed, tears hitting the boy's soaked jacket.

"Stan...," Butters eventually knelt by Stan on the opposite side of Kyle after several seconds of silence, "Please...," he sniffled, "Please, Stan... Please don't die..."

"He's not gonna die, Butters...," Kyle tried whole-heartedly to make himself believe that.

"He's gonna die and it's all my fault!" Butters sobbed hysterically, "I didn't mean to hit him! It was an accident! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He continued to cry.

Kyle took his hands off of Stan and clenched his fists, staring at Butters, "He is not...," Kyle hit Stan hard in the chest, "Going...," he hit him again, "To...," again, "Die!" Kyle screamed as he struck the other boy as hard as he could.

The two heard a gasping noise immediately followed by violent coughing.

"Stan!" Both Kyle and Butters yelled at the same time.

He coughed up a gratuitous amount of ice-cold lake water before beginning to hyperventilate.

Kyle gently lifted the shivering boy and cradled his upper body in his arms, "Take it easy, Stan... Nice and easy... You'll be okay... Just breathe..."

Stan continued to hyperventilate to the point were he started coughing again, gasping for air.

Kyle reached into Stan's coat pockets frantically searching for his inhaler.

"Maybe this'll help...," Kyle steadied Stan's head and held the inhaler in front of him, "I'll give it to you just breathe for me, okay?" Stan nodded his head weakly.

After throwing up, within a few minutes, Stan's breathing began to steady. The boy was shaking uncontrollably.

"We need to get you out of some of these wet clothes, okay? It'll make you warmer," Kyle proceeded to pull off Stan's soaking wet jacket and t-shirt before shedding his own jacket and zipping it up on Stan. He then replaced Stan's sopping-wet mittens with his own and placed his hat snugly on Stan's head.

Butters took off his jacket and draped it over Stan's shoulders.

"Butters," Kyle beckoned him to sit down, "If we hug him he can get some of our body heat," Kyle tightly embraced his super best friend tightly. Butters did the same, embracing both boys.

Kyle could see Stan's eyes drooping, either from the head injury or hypothermia.

Stan buried his head into Kyle's shivering neck, whimpering.

"It'll be okay, Stan... You'll be o-okay," Kyle reassured through chattering teeth, rubbing circles on the boy's back.

"Just stay awake..."


	4. Chapter 4

"H-how's he doin', Mrs. Marsh?" Butters nervously bumped his knuckles together as he slunk through the hospital door, avoiding eye contact with her.

The frazzled woman glanced over at her son before turning to Butters.

Stan lie motionless in the hospital bed.

Multiple wires and hoses ran from the boy to various pieces of medical equipment.

The wires ran to a vital sign monitor beside the bed. One tube ran to an oxygen line behind the bed. Another tube ran from his right hand to a large bag of fluid on the opposite side of the bed. Multiple blankets were layered over him. His black hair draped over a thick bandage wrapped around his head.

"He's still not awake yet…," Sharon responded.

"Wul… It's been l-like six hours… He's gonna be okay, right?" Butters looked over at his friend.

Sharon sighed, "The doctors said his body temperature is close to normal. They've been giving him heated medicine," she pointed at the I.V. bag, "And he has a pretty bad concussion… He nearly drowned…," tears of worry welled in her eyes.

Butters was overcome with guilt.

"I – I…," he stuttered, nearly crying, "I didn't mean to hurt him… It was an accident…"

Kyle looked up at the small blonde boy from his bandaged hand; he was sitting next to Kenny on the other side of the room.

"I – I would never hurt Stan…," Butters continued, tears streaming down his face, "He's my f – friend… I'm sorry…," he nearly begged for forgiveness.

"I know it was an accident, honey…," Sharon pat him on the back and tried to smile.

Kenny scooted closer to Kyle on the small couch they were sitting on.

"Want to sit down, Butters?" Kenny patted the open spot beside him.

Butters hung his head low as he walked across the room to sit down.

The room was completely silent except for machines beeping and Butters sniffling every so often.

Kenny uneasily chewed his fingernails.

"You guys all probably hate me now… Especially Stan…," Butters whispered.

"We don't hate you, dude," Kenny reassured.

"Stan's not gonna hate you either…," Kyle coughed violently at the end of his sentence.

"It was an accident…," Butters whimpered, "I was just so focused on making that goal… I just swung the stick and I didn't even know how hard I did and -."

"Seriously, dude. We all know you didn't mean to hurt him. Just relax," Kenny interrupted.

"And it's not like – cough – you took a blowtorch to the ice to melt it under us or something…," Kyle commented.

Butters took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

* * *

><p>Stan slowly cracked open his eyes.<p>

Bright white hospital lights flooded his blurred vision, causing his head to pound.

"Ugh…," he shut his eyes and slowly moved his hands to cradle his head.

"Stan!" The room erupted in unison.

He opened eyes again to see four blurry figures hovering over him.

As the image sharpened he was able to see his mom, Kyle, Kenny, and Butters.

"Thank goodness you're awake, sweetie!" Sharon hugged her son tight, kissing him on the forehead about ten times.

"I'll go get a nurse and tell her you're awake!" She hurried out of the room.

"What…? What happened…? Where am I…?" Stan spoke weakly as he looked around.

"You're in the hospital, dude," Kyle put his hand on Stan's shoulder.

"We were out playing ice hockey and you hit your head pretty hard…," Kenny began, "We all rushed over to see if you were okay and then the ice on the pond started to crack around us… You fell in and we tried to get you out as fast as we could… By the time we got you out you weren't breathing… Kyle saved your life by doing CPR…"

"Well… If it wasn't for Kenny grabbing me after I slid back onto – cough – the ice to save you and Butters grabbing Kenny after that, we probably – cough – all would've ended up in the lake… Kenny went to get help too. I can't take all the credit for a team effort…," Kyle stated.

"Jesus Christ…," Stan dwelled on his own mortality for a moment, "Thanks guys… I owe you one. Big time…"

"Actually, you pretty much just owe Kyle. As much as he'd like to say we all contributed equally to saving you, he did most of the work. Right, Butters?" Kenny prompted.

The small blonde boy nodded.

"He's the one that slid out onto a breaking sheet of ice to grab you and he's the one who had to kiss you to do CPR," Kenny laughed, "He's even got a battle wound to show for it!" He pointed at Kyle's bandaged right hand.

Kyle held it up a little.

"What happened?" Stan's voice was filled with concern.

"I guess I cut it on the broken ice – cough – when I was trying to pull you out or something… I didn't even know until Kenny said something about my hand bleeding…"

"It's okay though?"

"Yeah… It doesn't hurt much... They had to put seven stitches in it, but that's about it."

"Seven stitches, huh? I bet that's gonna leave a pretty badass scar… Girls love scars…," Stan smiled slyly.

"Well you got like 15 in your head, dude… I guess that means you're a chick magnet now!" Kenny interjected.

"Like I wasn't before...?"

Everyone laughed except Butters.

"So… How did I hit my head again…?" Stan inquired.

"Well… You didn't really hit your head… You were kinda hit in the head," Kenny offered.

"Hit by what…?"

"I – I hit you with my stick really hard…," Butters spoke.

"Butters…?" Stan was thoroughly confused.

"It – it was an accident… I was just so focused on trying to get the last shot to win the game… I didn't even know you were that close… Or that I swung the stick up that high… I'm sorry… Please don't hate me, Stan!"

Stan looked curiously at Kyle and Kenny.

"I'll do whatever you want me to in order to make this up to you. I'll carry your books every day at school for the rest of the year… I'll give you my milk every day at lunch… Heck, I'd even let you hit me over the head with something – I deserve it. Anyth -."

"Butters!" Stan stated firmly.

The boy stopped talking immediately.

"First of all: calm down, dude," Stan looked at the nearly crying, clearly remorseful boy, "Second of all: I don't hate you and I don't want you to think you have to be my slave to make up for this. It was obviously an accident… Hell, even if you said you got pissed at me and smacked me over the head with something, I wouldn't believe you… You're Butters, for Christ's sake! You're like the nicest person we all know… You're not even capable of getting that mad… Remember that time when Cartman hit you in the face for no reason and gave you a nosebleed?"

"Yeah…?"

"Then I'm sure you remember how you hit him in the shoulder and then apologized to him _after_ he hit you again?"

"Yeah…"

"I know you didn't hurt me on purpose, Butters… It's okay… Really…"

Kyle was struck with a violent coughing spell.

Stan eyed his best friend, "You don't look too well, dude…"

"I could say the same for you!" Kyle rebutted.

"Seriously…"

Kyle was paler than usual and shivering. He looked exhausted.

"Yeah… I kinda had a cold for the past couple days… I got all wet and cold trying to keep you warm. The doctor said I – cough – might have caught pneumonia. They want to take a chest X-ray tomorrow…"

Stan pawed at the stack blankets draped over him and weakly held one up to Kyle, "Have a blanket…?"

Kyle smiled as he gently pushed Stan's hand back down, "I'll be okay, thanks though."

"What happens if you have pneumonia…?"

"I don't know... Last time – cough – I had it they had to give me some stupid I.V. antibiotic or something… It sucked hardcore."

"Well… You could have a bed next to mine if you needa stay in the hospital…? That way we could keep each other company…?" Stan smiled.

"I'd prefer we just had – cough – a sleepover at my house but if we _have _to be here, that'd be pretty kickass, dude," Kyle smiled back at his super best friend.


End file.
